


Lessons in Contentment

by RationalCashew



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-16 13:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18522526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RationalCashew/pseuds/RationalCashew
Summary: Some date-night fluffiness. Season 7ish.Part of the XFEasterExchange2019Rated T because I probably threw in some language.





	Lessons in Contentment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sportsnightnut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sportsnightnut/gifts).



> Hayley - I hope this is kind of what you were going for! I had a lot of fun with it!
> 
> Jeri & Val - You’re freaking amazing! Thanks for reading over this for me!
> 
> Nicole - Dude. Thank you for organizing this whole shindig for a THIRD time! I have a blast doing it! ❤️

Mulder watched from the doorframe as Scully applied her eyeliner. It still felt like a dream. A particularly good dream from which he desperately did not want to wake. That wasn’t to say that he expected not to do just that. Truth be told, he did. He expected to wake up in a hospital, like he usually did when he had dreams like this, to find her sitting at his bedside with a worried expression on her face that he wanted to kiss away.

Scully met his gaze in the mirror and gave him a quick grin.

“I’m almost ready,” she said.

Mulder only nodded. He didn’t mind if they missed their reservation. He was content to watch whatever magic was happening right in front of him.

Content.

Contentment.

That entire ideology was a foreign concept to him, he mused silently. He wasn’t sure he knew what contentment felt like. Sure, Mulder knew that he felt more comfortable than he probably should have when they went to crappy diners in foreign cities and just talked over greasy food and mediocre salads – on her part because nothing green or leafy was about to go into his mouth; he wasn’t a rabbit. He had that same feeling of unexplainable, uber-comfort when he woke in a hospital and hers was the first face he saw. When he really thought about it, the sensation was the same when they were in a boring meeting and he watched as she was fully focused on her note-taking. Or –.

“Mulder?”

The volume of her voice was enough to tell him that she’d been trying to get his attention. Although, ironically, she’d already had it.

“Hm?”

Scully frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Depends on who you ask, I guess,” he joked. She rolled her eyes with a smirk and he couldn’t help but smile.

Without thinking, he walked toward her, barely noticing that she’d switched types of make-up and was applying something else. She eyed him suspiciously in the mirror as he closed the gap between them.

He couldn’t help being taken by surprise when he stopped a couple of feet behind her, watching their reflections as she watched only his.

 _This must be contentment_ , he thought and made a mental note to look up the actual definition of that word when he got back to his apartment.

Huh.

That was new, too.

Mulder couldn’t remember referring to his place of residence as anything other than home, unless he was stating where he would be for someone else’s benefit. Home, he supposed, was wherever she was with him.

When exactly did that change?

“You’re starting to freak me out,” Scully said, once again tearing him from his reverie.

“Sorry,” Mulder replied awkwardly.

She set down whatever bit of make-up was in her hand and turned to face him, her expression filled with concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to go out tonight if you’re not feeling up to it.” She cupped his cheek tenderly; although, he knew her better than that: she was subtly checking for a fever. That was his Scully, though.

He couldn’t help but smile and her hand went from his cheek to his chest. “Actually, I’m okay. I’m just… thinkin’.” He pursed his lips together, trying to come up with something that would wipe that skeptical look off her beautiful face.

Truth be told, Mulder had no explanation for his current state of mind. He’d been in love with this woman for… God, he didn’t know how long. It was long enough, though; longer, really, than it should have been for them to officially start this _thing_. Long enough that he really should have kissed her before it could have easily been misconstrued as nothing more than a holiday obligation. He didn’t want it to be nothing more than a chance happening between two colleagues with soft, platonic intention… with so much left unsaid.

Mulder often thought about New Year’s Eve. It was only a few short months ago that he’d worked up the nerve to kiss her. If she wouldn’t listen to how he felt, he had to show her. Except, much like the first time he told her that he loved her, his timing had been piss poor. He told her that he loved her and she assumed he was on drugs. Which, admittedly, he was; although, narcotics had nothing to do with his confession – except, maybe, given him the nerve to voice it. Then, he watched her as she watched the TV in that waiting room and he just couldn’t help himself, completely forgetting the fact that all the people on TV were doing the same thing.

Lucky for him, he decided to kiss her again once they’d gotten back to his place. She couldn’t misconstrue it at that point and he recalled what was most likely an idiot grin on his face when she realized it was the real deal. Mulder never wanted to forget the little grin that she tried to stifle, either. It was a new grin. It was his grin.

“Okay,” Scully said, firmly this time, “what is going on with you tonight?” Her hands moved from his chest to her hips as though emphasizing a point.

“I’m just thinking,” he chuckled.

“You mentioned that,” she deadpanned, crossing her arms expectantly.

Mulder couldn’t help but continue to chuckle. He was probably annoying her or freaking her out and he half-expected for her to switch from date mode to Dr. Scully mode.

“I was thinking about you.” She arched a skeptical eyebrow and he continued, “About us.” He stepped forward and placed his hands on her hips. Hers, in turn, wrapped around his abdomen instinctively, like they were meant to be there.

“What about us?” She asked, a shy flirtation present in her voice.

“I was thinking about New Year’s and wondering if we’d be here right now if I hadn’t kissed you the second time.”

“The second time?” Amusement gleamed in her eye as she arched her eyebrow.

He loved that look on her; he always had.

“Well, the first time wasn’t exactly timed very well given the time of day and the date surrounding it.”

Scully chuckled. “Well, the second time, you were half out of it from pain pills, so…”

“You, Agent-slash-Doctor Scully, are wrong.”

“Oh, really?” she challenged.

“Mmhmm.”

“Mulder, you could barely sit on the couch without falling off of it! I had to hold you up!”

“That wasn’t the drugs! I was tired. I was almost killed by zombies, Scully. _Actual_ zombies!” Mulder smirked and added, “Plus, you liked doing that.”

Scully returned the smirk with one of her own and said, “Mulder, you do know that two side effects of Vicodin are drowsiness and impaired mental sharpness, right?”

Mulder frowned and she chuckled before pressing a kiss to his lips, not giving him an opportunity to respond to the rhetorical question.

“Come on,” she said, taking his hand and leading him into the hall. “We’re going to be late.”

“It was the second time that made you realize I was serious, right? You weren’t just humoring me?”

“Mulder, I get paid to humor you –.”

“Ouch,” he interjected, but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued.

“I wasn’t about to do it off the clock.”

He felt himself frowning as she shot a playful smile over her shoulder. Any retort he might have had brewing in his brain would have epically lost the battle against that smile.

And, how the hell hadn’t he realized she was wearing _that_? The little, backless, black dress that was suddenly his favorite thing in her closet, hit every curve just right.

God, he was going to be in trouble.

* * *

Scully smiled at him over her glass of wine. He’d been acting strange all evening. Sure, they didn’t really go on dates – which was why she was so surprised when he’d asked about this evening and even more taken back when he told her where they were going. It was in that moment that she realized that they spent the majority of their time running all over the place and that, in reality, a quiet night in had become her idea of the perfect date. Although, the current setting was quickly vying for the top spot on that very short list of good date night ideas.

They hadn’t been dating all that long, really. A fact she often had to remind herself. It just felt like they’d been “together” longer due to how long she’d been in love with him and he with her. Part of her often wondered what things might have been like if they’d taken this step sooner, if she’d stopped replacing every proverbial brick he’d manage to take from the walls she’d built up over the years. At the same time, it probably wouldn’t have worked. Neither one of them had been particularly ready to take that inevitable next step. Too many factors always came into play.

They’d – or, at least, she’d – always blamed the FBI’s ideology on agents getting involved with their partners; but, even she knew that was bullshit; the FBI had married agent couples. It wasn’t a new thing and it, really, wasn’t as big of a deal as she and Mulder had made it or were made to believe for so long. As long as they’d made their statements to HR – which, admittedly, they hadn’t done, yet – and didn’t let it affect their performance on the job, they would’ve been fine.

Neither of them had been truly ready for this.

In a way, she was happy for that apprehension, that unknown. Scully could honestly say that she was the happiest she’d ever been. And, that was something of a minor miracle in itself.

She wasn’t exactly sure how much longer they were at the restaurant, but before she knew it, Mulder had slowed them to a stop and put his jacket over her shoulders before taking her hand in his again and continuing their walk.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, giving her a quick kiss to the temple. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Scully inhaled deeply. The smell of blooming cherry blossoms and the incoming rain filled her lungs.

She could not deny that she was content for the moment, for the first time in a long time. There was no ominous, evil entity threatening them that couldn’t wait until Monday to be dealt with. There was no case – which, admittedly, she’d half expected to pop up – taking them across the country or to some God-forsaken town to investigate what would most definitely turn out not to be something from folklore or a scary story; and there was nothing to ruin their otherwise perfect night.

Tonight, they weren’t FBI partners; coworkers. Tonight, they were a regular couple doing something regular couples did. They were Dana Scully and Fox Mulder. They were walking down the street, hand in hand, laughing together as they headed to the vehicle waiting for them in a public parking garage.

* * *

Scully stared out the window absently, watching the lightning flash across the sky. The thunder rolled with no regard for anything but making its presence known. Something about the way the rain was beating against the window left her with an odd sense of relaxation.

She was taken from her reverie when she felt Mulder’s arms wrap around her, pulling her back into his firm frame. She relaxed into him as she allowed her own arms to rest atop his.

“You okay?” He asked in her ear.

“Yes,” she replied, meaning it. “Did you have trouble finding the emergency candle?”

She felt him chuckle against her. “Scully,” Mulder said, “your apartment is so organized that if I _couldn’t_ find it, I’d have opened an X-File on it.”

Scully grinned. Of course, he found it. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and watched the storm with her for several long and silent minutes.

“What are you thinkin’?” Mulder asked, softly.

“How nice tonight was,” Scully replied equally as softly. “How… content I am.”

“Even with the power out?”

Her only response was an amused snort. Mulder held her a little tighter and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Scully shifted just enough that she could look up at him. They stared at each other for the briefest of moments before he leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. It wasn’t as chaste as either of them had been on New Year’s Eve; but, although brief, it was full of meaning.

They hadn’t said the words, yet, but it was the kind of kiss that told her he loved her; the kind of kiss that conveyed every little letter of that proclamation.

Scully leaned back into him and they continued to watch the show the lightning was putting on in the sky above them, reveling in the subtle comfort of each other.

* * *

Contentment.

That’s exactly what Fox Mulder was: content.

It was funny, really. After everything he’d lived through, the very person he’d been determined to shut out and only associate with as much as was required of him, had become so much more. It was that conundrum, that strange kind of magic, that the very same person who was sent to destroy him was the same person he was now holding securely in his arms. The realization was nothing new but rather cemented. He knew for certain that she was exactly what he could no longer live without, that it was with her he was madly, undeniably in love.

He hadn’t seen it coming. Part of him still didn’t believe he deserved any of this; that he never would. Admittedly, it was something he hadn’t realized he even wanted.

But, she snuck up on him. Dana Scully had a way of taking all the messed up, broken pieces he had to offer and creating a masterpiece. She had a way of making him feel like Superman during the times he would rather run and hide. She was his comfort and his strength.

Scully constantly redefined the word “love” for him, shown him that it was so much more than some arbitrary declarative. From the way she cared for him when he needed it – whether it was on the rare occasion that he was sick or her frightening disposition when he was injured and in the hospital. It was even in the way that she brought him coffee that was just right or always seemed to know when he was just about out of sunflower seeds, magically producing more even though she never ate them. It was in the way she’d brought him the sweats and a t-shirt tonight, clothing that had somehow found their way to her apartment and he hadn’t noticed were missing. She was redefining every second of what had ordinarily carried such a heavy price or meant nothing.

At some point, the power came back and they nestled on the couch to finish their movie, not that Mulder had any idea what they were watching anyway. Long before the end, they wound up stretched out with Scully lying almost completely on top of him. He wasn’t sure when or how they’d ended up laying like that, but all he knew was that she’d dozed off. He could tell by her breathing and he sure as hell was not going to move unless their lives depended on it.

No, he wanted to stay just like that for the rest of his life: the woman he loved sleeping atop him, secured in his arms as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.

While he hadn’t had the opportunity to look up the definition, yet, Mulder drifted to sleep, completely positive that when he did, eventually, look up what the Webster had to say about contentment, he would find exactly this.


End file.
